Lindsey Lohan: SHE’S not the Ronson who dated Lindsay Lohan.
That’s her fedora-wearing fraternal twin, Samantha, a celebrity D.J. and singer. She’s not the Ronson who in 2008 won three Grammys including one for producer of the year for working with the late Amy Winehouse. That’s her brother Mark, the recently married record producer.
Rather, the shy woman with enviable rocker-messy hair who was sitting, largely unnoticed, in the NoHo restaurant the Smile on a recent sunny Friday morning is Charlotte Ronson, the clothing designer, who in the last few years has quietly and somewhat surprisingly evolved into one of the most successful retail entrepreneurs of her generation.
Ms. Ronson, who began designing feminine grunge-inspired looks under the label C. Ronson in 2000 and who has shown at New York Fashion Week since 2006, has also scored deals with the cheap-chic chains Urban Outfitters and Uniqlo. Since 2009, she’s had a diffusion line, I Heart Ronson in J. C. Penney’s 600 stores, and last month her beauty collection arrived at Sephora, the makeup emporium’s first-ever collaboration with a fashion designer on a full-scale beauty line.
Ms. Ronson, who was born in London and raised in the more privileged downtown corridors of Manhattan by her mother, Ann Dexter-Jones, and a stepfather, Mick Jones, of the rock band Foreigner, has an aesthetic of studied nonchalance (her Sephora collection includes a hair spray called A Perfect Mess, intended to help achieve beachy, tousled locks) and a demeanor to match.
Sitting at the Smile, which is near her apartment, she resembled a cat perched on a ledge, waiting, watching, wary — and not smiling very much. Dressed in floral shorts and army-green canvas espadrilles of her own design, along with a 3.1 Phillip Lim gray, long-sleeve T-shirt, Ms. Ronson answered questions succinctly. She was hands-on with the Sephora collection, she said, making sure her lip gloss, flavored with lemon and mint, was “not sticky”; that the hair spray didn’t leave hair “crunchy”; and that her eyeshadows didn’t “crease.”
Lest you cynically suspect mere famous-name rubber-stamping: “We had over 30 rounds of design, an unusually high number,” Nancy Rappaport, the director of product development at Sephora, wrote in an e-mail later. “It was Charlotte who brought all of the elements together (the muse, the sketch image, the fabric inspiration, the textures).”
In a crowded market, Ms. Ronson, 34, has pulled off the rare feat of retaining indie cred — her Charlotte Ronson line is sold at boutiques like Blue & Cream in Manhattan and East Hampton, and online at shopbop.com — while also going truly mass.
“She is on a roll,” said Robert Passikoff, the president of Brand Keys, a New York research company that monitors consumer perception of brands. “I don’t think it’s happenstance. I think it’s a well-thought-out strategy in terms of expanding the brand. There are plenty of companies out there looking for just that, an association with someone like Ronson.”
Now that work has kicked up a notch and her twin, Samantha, lives in Los Angeles, they keep in touch by calling, e-mailing and texting frequently. “I just hire her for things so I can hang out with her,” said Charlotte jokingly, while eating cheese fries and a salad at the Coffee Shop in Union Square on another day. Asked if she was in a relationship, she replied, “Nothing serious.” (She had a brief consultation with her publicist, sitting next to her, and elaborated: “It’s always mine to have as my own — not that anyone cares.” Laughter.)
In a phone interview, Samantha Ronson said that Charlotte was born with a reserved nature. “She can be, I guess, standoffish,” she said. “She’s just careful — waits and watches to see if someone is good or not. I’m like ‘Hey, let’s be best friends.’ ”
The more sedate twin has proved just enough Ronson for J. C. Penney, which has already renewed its original deal with her twice. I Heart Ronson’s kittenish print dresses and back-studded leggings have helped raise the company’s profile among 18-to-30-year-olds, who otherwise think of it as “my grandmother’s and mother’s store,” said Elizabeth Sweney, its senior general merchandise manager. “She has an eye for mixing fabrics, that when combined, create a very special and individualistic item with a personality of its own,” Ms. Sweney added in an e-mail. “Charlotte also has an eye for taking a vintage print and making it new and relevant.” Many of her work-to-play dresses for $50 come with a belt, so as Ms. Ronson put it, it’s a “complete ensemble,” one priced to be recession-friendly.
That’s her fedora-wearing fraternal twin, Samantha, a celebrity D.J. and singer. She’s not the Ronson who in 2008 won three Grammys including one for producer of the year for working with the late Amy Winehouse. That’s her brother Mark, the recently married record producer.
Rather, the shy woman with enviable rocker-messy hair who was sitting, largely unnoticed, in the NoHo restaurant the Smile on a recent sunny Friday morning is Charlotte Ronson, the clothing designer, who in the last few years has quietly and somewhat surprisingly evolved into one of the most successful retail entrepreneurs of her generation.
Ms. Ronson, who began designing feminine grunge-inspired looks under the label C. Ronson in 2000 and who has shown at New York Fashion Week since 2006, has also scored deals with the cheap-chic chains Urban Outfitters and Uniqlo. Since 2009, she’s had a diffusion line, I Heart Ronson in J. C. Penney’s 600 stores, and last month her beauty collection arrived at Sephora, the makeup emporium’s first-ever collaboration with a fashion designer on a full-scale beauty line.
Ms. Ronson, who was born in London and raised in the more privileged downtown corridors of Manhattan by her mother, Ann Dexter-Jones, and a stepfather, Mick Jones, of the rock band Foreigner, has an aesthetic of studied nonchalance (her Sephora collection includes a hair spray called A Perfect Mess, intended to help achieve beachy, tousled locks) and a demeanor to match.
Sitting at the Smile, which is near her apartment, she resembled a cat perched on a ledge, waiting, watching, wary — and not smiling very much. Dressed in floral shorts and army-green canvas espadrilles of her own design, along with a 3.1 Phillip Lim gray, long-sleeve T-shirt, Ms. Ronson answered questions succinctly. She was hands-on with the Sephora collection, she said, making sure her lip gloss, flavored with lemon and mint, was “not sticky”; that the hair spray didn’t leave hair “crunchy”; and that her eyeshadows didn’t “crease.”
Lest you cynically suspect mere famous-name rubber-stamping: “We had over 30 rounds of design, an unusually high number,” Nancy Rappaport, the director of product development at Sephora, wrote in an e-mail later. “It was Charlotte who brought all of the elements together (the muse, the sketch image, the fabric inspiration, the textures).”
In a crowded market, Ms. Ronson, 34, has pulled off the rare feat of retaining indie cred — her Charlotte Ronson line is sold at boutiques like Blue & Cream in Manhattan and East Hampton, and online at shopbop.com — while also going truly mass.
“She is on a roll,” said Robert Passikoff, the president of Brand Keys, a New York research company that monitors consumer perception of brands. “I don’t think it’s happenstance. I think it’s a well-thought-out strategy in terms of expanding the brand. There are plenty of companies out there looking for just that, an association with someone like Ronson.”
Now that work has kicked up a notch and her twin, Samantha, lives in Los Angeles, they keep in touch by calling, e-mailing and texting frequently. “I just hire her for things so I can hang out with her,” said Charlotte jokingly, while eating cheese fries and a salad at the Coffee Shop in Union Square on another day. Asked if she was in a relationship, she replied, “Nothing serious.” (She had a brief consultation with her publicist, sitting next to her, and elaborated: “It’s always mine to have as my own — not that anyone cares.” Laughter.)
In a phone interview, Samantha Ronson said that Charlotte was born with a reserved nature. “She can be, I guess, standoffish,” she said. “She’s just careful — waits and watches to see if someone is good or not. I’m like ‘Hey, let’s be best friends.’ ”
The more sedate twin has proved just enough Ronson for J. C. Penney, which has already renewed its original deal with her twice. I Heart Ronson’s kittenish print dresses and back-studded leggings have helped raise the company’s profile among 18-to-30-year-olds, who otherwise think of it as “my grandmother’s and mother’s store,” said Elizabeth Sweney, its senior general merchandise manager. “She has an eye for mixing fabrics, that when combined, create a very special and individualistic item with a personality of its own,” Ms. Sweney added in an e-mail. “Charlotte also has an eye for taking a vintage print and making it new and relevant.” Many of her work-to-play dresses for $50 come with a belt, so as Ms. Ronson put it, it’s a “complete ensemble,” one priced to be recession-friendly.
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